


Havannibal

by 2broschillin



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Gunshot Wounds, Hannibal now wears ugly hawaiian shirts, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Mentioned Abigail Hobbs, Murder, Murder Husbands, POV Will Graham, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, S3Ep13, Someone Help Will Graham, Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter in Cuba, Will Graham is a Mess, Will Grahams Dogs, cannibalism (DUH), emotional ex-cannibal, emotions are hard sometimes, i meant this to be light but oh well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:48:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28165035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2broschillin/pseuds/2broschillin
Summary: Hannibal and Will escape to Cuba!! They realize their love isn't unrequited and have to deal with stupid emotions
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	1. Aruba Jamaica Ooh I Wanna Take Ya

**Author's Note:**

> Please put critiques or ideas in the comments!!!

He was once my enemy. And by once I mean about two days ago. Two days ago, we were at his cabin, his cabin where Abigail had been before. His cabin we could escape to. Blood soaked, we looked like the moon and the sun, in the depth of night. The Great Red Dragon lay dead on the floor, his legacy burned behind him.

I grasped him. I grasped the man who stabbed me and killed our daughter. I embraced him, pushed all of my weight into his chest. His hand grabbed the back of my neck. We had been here before, only last time the teacup wan’t broken. We fell down and down and down.

He said earlier that it deteriorates, and rusts and goes away. I’m certain he wasn’t talking of the cliffside. The past flies away and the wind rushed around our ears. He hit the water first. I held him. He held me and we gasped for air. My lungs swelled from the salt. The water turned red. Our blood diluted around us. We swam. Him first. Me behind. Moving slowly. We didn’t say a word.

We found a beach. We stifled onto the sand, tired, bloody and not ready to talk about what happened.

I broke the silence first. I asked him quietly,  
“So, what now?”  
“I don’t know.”

We both collapsed onto the sandbank staring into the sky.  
I needed to keep him conscious. Fuck. Fuck. What do I say?  
“Can you tell me about the stars?” I blurted out.  
“What?”  
“The constellations. What great moral debates roam with the nights as they pass?”  
“Will, does it have to be right now?”  
“Yes, yes it does, Dr. Lecter”  
“I think we’re past that now.”  
We both drifted off.

Somebody found us. They found us covered in our own blood, and each others. Me and my stab wounds, Hannibal and his gunshot. They called the ambulance, and we were moved onto stretchers.

In the hospital it was sweltering. I saw Hannibal's shadow in a bed across from mine. We stayed there for a while, getting patched up and fixed. The surgeon was in surgery, ironic, eh?  
He was fine. He deserved it. Bitch. He groaned for days with little movements. We both got jobs, he worked long hours at the hospital and I was a vet’s assistant. I think it was the first time he didn’t have some ulterior motive. No secret plan involving cannibalism and mindfucking. We got a place at a hotel. Single bed, uncomfortable couch, crappy floors, the usual. He looked disgusted all the time. We became friends with the manager and he kind of let us become residents. I slept on the couch every night, the foam in it was dying by the minute. The stains were visible and disgusting. I'd never let Hannibal sleep on that mess, he'd have a stroke.

The worst thing about the recovery was switching the gauze. Mine were fine but he was bitchy. For somebody who ate human meat you’d thing a bandaid wouldn’t make him cry. He couldn’t do it himself. He’d lift up his pattered shirts with the ugliest things on them and I’d have to put the antibiotic onto his chest. He looked at me. I can’t get that face out of my head. It was dependency. It was the face of someone being cared for. He looked vulnerable, open, in so many ways. He ran for so long. From his past, the police, the FBI, his feelings.  
It was different from his eyes when we killed Dolarhyde. That was hunger. That was bloodlust, frenzy, A shared madness. I couldn’t tell if he knew what I was thinking but his face returned it. I felt like I could forgive him. I could look at him and feel okay, I knew he could protect me. I leaned over to help him, he winced.  
“Oh shut up.”  
“You’re mean.”  
“Yes, I am but for some reason you haven't served me on a platter yet.”  
“I hate you.”  
“No you don’t.”  
Our voices returned each other like a rhythm. In sync.

I lifted my heavy head back up.  
His eyes met mine. There was a lingering connection. Our hearts were beating together.  
I put my hand onto his face. I held him. He pushed into me.

Our lips touched and a spark lit into a fire.


	2. Bermuda Bahama Come On Pretty Mama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will deals with his conflicts towards loving Hannibal and they talk about stars.

We finally got here. Holding him in my arms. Goddamn. It felt surreal, what we had waited so long for, unable to say.  
I never felt love like this. I never longed for somebody. Never felt heartache and betrayal. Not with Molly. Or Margot. Or Alana.

Of course I fell for Hannibal the fucking Cannibal, great judgement on my end. His hair is soft and his brain is magnificent, but why him?  
Why did I have to go through this? Was Abigail dying worth it to be with him, and is it bad if I would kill again for him?  
Is it love or revenge?

Being with him is magical. He makes everything feel like a dream. We hold hands while walking at night. He stares, away from me. I don’t know if he’s ready.  
He always seems distant. Far away in his mind, thinking about his future, our future. The cosmos’s path stares at us head on and tells us it can’t favor our fortunes.  
We don’t deserve this. I’ve killed, he cooked people for every meal. Can’t he be satisfied with a fucking Happy Meal.

Why did he pick me?  
Why does he look at me like he wants more? He hasn’t said I love you.  
Just distance.  
Before we fell, Bedelia told me that he loved me. I never asked what kind of love it was.  
That night was all I wanted with all those stolen glimpses. All of the prolonged stares. But can we continue with this?  
I love him, but I know he’s irreparable. He is the broken teacup and I am the mongoose. Smashed to the floor over and over. 

That first moment, we walked along the shoreline. He started pointing at the sky. His arm ached him to lift but he moved it anyway. 

“That’s Orion.” He declared.  
“What?”  
“You asked me about the stars.”  
“Oh.”  
“He was from the Island of Chios, as one of the sons of Poseidon. He chased away wild boars and hunted beasts. He fell in love with Merope, a princess, who’s father despised Orion. So King Oenopion blinded him, but his vision was restored by the sun. He made a journey to Crete to be with Artemis and hunt. They battled boars and fell in love. Apollo was jealous over Artemis’s adoration, and slaughtered Orion in the form of a monstrous scorpion. Artemis was enraged, she felt broken without him and begged to be with him. The Gods immortalized him in the stars, forever with Artemis, in the sky he pursues the Pleiades. Engaged in the immortal hunts for eons.”

I didn’t say much. Is that how he sees people, as a hunt? Am I just prey, or am I his Orion? As I am here now is the Scorpion shortly behind us?

I didn't care. His love is like the sun, I am blinded by his light and I can’t see anything, but I don’t quite mind. His love is so strong but it feels like it’s burning.  
I’ll be his Icarus, and as I fall, the wax melts into our bloody faults.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeet


	3. Key Largo, Montego

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will still can't even over the fact that he picked Hurderer the Murderer over literally anyone else.  
> He deserves to curse more than any fictional character minus the Doctor.

I spent the next week with my head in the stars. Love that we had both waited so patiently for. Wars we’d fight to be together. I felt the words bubble in my throat. Between how he looked at me, and Bedelia's confirmation, I knew I needed to spit it out.

> “Hey, can I tell you something?”

“Sure, Will.”

“You don’t have to,” reciprocate? No, “respond. But uh.”

“Yes?”

_“I love you.”_

_**FUCK** _

He was silent for a minute, one single minute that felt like a fucking century.

I can’t stand this. I’m Out. I’m leaving. If I catch a plane fats enough, he can’t follow me and bring that shitshow up. I can hear him calling after me. 

“Will!”

My walk broke into a sprint. His voice grew distant. I climbed up a hill and sat behind a tree. There’s a dog barking somewhere far off, It made me think of Winston, home, then, Abigail. 

My face felt hot and tears started to form. 

For once can’t I be emotional, dammit. 

I gave up so much to be here. So much to coward in the woods and sob over somebody who probably faked loving me. Somebody who actually tried to eat my brain.

I guess I cried too loudly, because out of the corner of my eye I spotted the _worst_ shirt I have ever seen to this day. 

Pineapples and cherries dotted on teal plaid. It could be only him.

I felt a familiar hand on my shoulder. He sat next to me, groaning as he made his way down.

“Hello,”

_I didn’t respond. I’m wasn't saying jackshit._

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

I _burrowed my face into my knees, trying to stave off an oncoming panic attack._

“I, um, didn’t know what to say.”

_Well, that was fairly obvious._

“I made it weird by not saying anything.”

“Well, if you don’t love me, then you don’t love me. Not your fault I guess”

"That was not where I was going with this.”

He paused for a second, and looked like he expected to receive pain back.

“The truth is, Will, I love you too.”

_**AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH** _

“I fell for you, a long time ago. When you told me you weren’t fond of eye contact.”

**_AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH_**

**_A_ ** **_SDFGHJKL_ **

**THINK GRAHAM, MAKE THE BRAIN THING WORK, ENGAGE IN CONVERSATION.  
KEEP YOUR CALM.**

“What about Alana, and Bedelia? 

“They don’t matter.”

“Oh."

Trying to avoid looking psychotic was my only goal in that moment.

I was quiet for , staring at the sky and canopy of leaves above us.

“Hannibal, what are we?”

“Besides humans, and murders technically?”

“I mean, us, as a, y’know, uh-“

“As a couple?"

“Yeah, okay, that.”

“I think we’ve been destined to be here.”

“Even with all of the things and people in the way?”

“Yes, even with all the smashed teacups and rude dragons.”

“Even with Abigail, and the shit you put her through?”

He knows I’ll never get over that, and honestly, I don’t know if he will either. Abigail was our daughter. And he threw that away twice, for what? Betrayal and a series of framed murders.

I got up and walked back to a bar. I needed to drink too much and forget that conversation happened.

He looks hurt, still sitting and waiting for an answer to his own question.

His question that we all have to ask?

“Why can’t I just let myself be happy?”

And, why, through all the pain do I still love him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember guys, I am looking for F E E D B A C K.


End file.
